


Disheveled

by Aen_Silver_Fire



Series: Uchiha Lovers [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aen_Silver_Fire/pseuds/Aen_Silver_Fire
Summary: The God of Death pays a generous visit. A long day cannot get any better than this.
Series: Uchiha Lovers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804414
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Disheveled

**Author's Note:**

> Another little one-shot of Itachi as the God of Death, dedicated to Angel and the lovely Discord crew! Thank you all for your support and kind words! I hope you like my End-of-the-Week Treat, Angel!

Your elegant limbs stretch over your head. Under the late afternoon sunlight that peeks through the windows, your toned muscles and forehead glisten with small droplets of sweat, evidence of your hard work. Today was a very productive day. You reach towards your small, dark red towel, that you have previously placed to the chair next to you. You gently wipe your neck and chest and turn around to head towards the bathroom to refresh.

But then, your eye catches a glimpse of a rich cloud of blackness, of pure shadow. Eyes widening in realization, you pivot to the left. And here _he_ is…. All kingly and elegant and poised, handsome and destructive and… _absolutely breathtaking_ …

“Thanatos...” you greet with, still somehow reserved, excitement. You certainly did not expect that he’d make an appearance in your room today. His presence has always been nothing less than a godly blessing to you. But, he doesn’t have to know exactly _how_ _embarassingly_ seeing him has made your heart flutter.

A ghost of a smile plays about his handsome features. “How has your today been?” he asks meekly and steps closer to you. Itachi directs his hand over to his mask, which he deftly removes, seemingly out of thin air, and finally lets his eyes roam all over your smaller physique; briefly, but very intensely.

“Good,” you reply, perhaps a little too quickly, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. You are particularly reminded that you stand in nothing but your sports bra and a pair of shorts. “Work went well. I just did a workout,” you shyly explain, as your treacherous eyes move swiftly to meet his. He’s looking at you with an intensity that is impossible to miss or to accurately place. Itachi always looks so regal, so godly. Sometimes though, in his bottomless, charcoal eyes you can curiously peer and find a perfectly controlled conflagration, roaring and threatening to burn everything on sight if let loose. That, of course, happens only when _you_ are the one to incite its glorious vehemency. After all, y _ou_ are the only one that can set the stoic Uchiha Itachi ablaze.

He takes one more pensive step closer and it demands more than every bit of your willpower to stop him, by placing your palms against his chest. “I must bathe,” you say. “I’m covered in sweat and I-” he stops you, by unexpectedly leaning down to the level of your neck.

“You smell....wonderfully,” Itachi dawdles and an alarming, unbidden blush stains your cheeks. “I’ve been wanting to see you...” he says, moving your disheveled ponytail away. “… all day.” In some strange way, you can sense it in you that his day has been anything _but_ pleasant; or rather, even a lot worse than that. Because of his diety function, he’s forced to bear witness to sadness and sorrow that no one could ever begin to understand, let alone shoulder the burden of it all. Most of the time, he’s being excellent at monitoring and hiding his inner turmoil. However, this once, it seems that it’s, only just slightly, getting the better of him.

A second later he has buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply, as though your very scent is able to diminish the storm that is raging inside the God of Death. You unconsciously lift your hand to place it on his hair in a reassuring gesture. At your gentle touch, he draws a very long breath in. His hands move towards your bare waist, leaving a loving caress in their wake.

“I _need_ ..... you” are the only words he uttered, before you silently acknowledge his request and he immediately acts to see it fulfilled. Your lips spread open invitingly as they meet his own. He tastes like nothing earthly. It feels like he’s been created out of stardust and blackness. So enticing, so alluring, so beautiful…

His hands travel all around your body, with a sense of restrained hunger, that makes your insides burn with desire. A soft moan escapes your lips in between his sensual, fervent kisses. But that only acts to kindle his own passion. You suddenly find yourself pushed against the wall of your bedroom, while the Death God’s hand exercises free reign all over you.

With each moan you breathe out, he gets more conquering, more demanding. His deft hands push your sports bra out of the way, freeing your beautiful chest for him to indulge in. Briefly, his mouth closes down to place deep kisses at your sensitive mounds, his earrings glistening along the movement.

“Aaah! Ita...chi...” you manage to utter. His soft bite teases you, but it’s only just enough to leave a small redness on your breast.

“A God does not require...” he whispers while his mouth dances all over, towards your neck once again, “...sustenance…”. With one arm he takes both of your hands in his and pins them to the wall above your head, demanding your full attention. “But….without you, I feel constantly un-satiated.” He pauses for a short moment, looking at your glazed eyes, as if asking for answers.

“Take,” you breathe out in a rasp voice, “what you need of me, Great God. I am irrevocably _yours_ ….”

He needs no other beckoning. Your shorts and pants are swiftly removed, and, in the blink of a human eye, his black chiton is gone too. Your hands, now free from his grip, attempt to move towards the hem of his breeches, desperately imploring them to be removed. Teasingly, playfully, _needing-ly_ … you glance over to him with eyes glimmering full of passion, promise and wonder. A small vibration, much like that of a chuckle, escapes his lips. Itachi then straightens his posture, his droplet earring dancing only slightly like a tiny pendulum.

“How... _frisky_...” he mutters under his breath and the next thing you know is that you’re no longer standing. Your back is pushed high against the wall and the only things, keeping you from falling to the ground like jelly, are your grip around Itachi’s neck and the wrapping of your thighs and legs around his waist. “Your eyes are a weapon,” he lets out a whisper, “too dangerous to wield,” he states, as if that is ample reasoning for your current _situation_. Quite ironic, considering what _his own_ eyes _can_ do….

Your new position makes his next endeavor very easy to achieve. His member is swiftly freed from confines of his breeches and is promptly teasing your entrance. His eyes, now spinning to blazing red, look at you for permission. _Oh, Itachi_ …always so gracious, always a gentleman. You can only nod in reassurance, before you feel his thickness filling you to the brim. So hot, so maddening, so perfect…

He resumes his ministrations on the entirety of your lithe body, while his pace is gaining momentum, slowly, carefully, masterfully. You grab at the nape of his neck, his hair tangled in between your fingers. His lips abruptly sink and nip at the side of your neck and collarbone, eliciting a much favorable vocal response. Your moan urges him to move harder and faster. You can feel _him_ in every corner of your being and no vestige of sanity remains to restrain you. You sigh and groan in absolute bliss, not realizing the urgency, the sheer _demand_ of the manner in which you suddenly pulled at his long hair. 

The force of your pulling  his dark locks flicks his head back momentarily. Who knew you had  _that_ in you? A  lustful smirk sets itself on his lips. His Sharingan seems to erupt, red and hot, staring at you with  unfathomable intensity, that steals your breath entirely away.

Without any other sort of warning, his pace quickens so forcefully, that all your senses threaten to explode. This is nothing like you have ever experienced before. It is so  wanton , so satisfying,  so galling..! All nerves in your body scream for release.  It is u tterly otherworldly! 

A small, just a mere tiny bit, of sense you are still holding onto, whispers that this, in fact, is only a glimpse of what his Sharingan can do, of what God Thanatos can do.

It is futile to resist. Your climax reaches you, before you could even fathom what is illusion and what is reality. You see white exploding behind your eyelids. Your voice, calling his name, comes out hoarse from pleasure, your legs tremble from the sheer intensity of it all. A small groan escapes him, and, right when you were riding your own high, scorching lava erupts within you; his own release overfilling you to the point of no return. 

You can only hold on to his strong body for balance, touching his wide back. As you exhale your chest meets his. The moonlight is  now  coloring your bodies silver, shimmering with the  droplets of your erotic love-making.

“I… _love_ … you.”


End file.
